The Mozart Conspiracy
AN ELECTRIFYING AND UTTERLY GRIPPING MUST READ FROM THE MASTER BESTSELLERFORMER SAS OPERATIVE BEN HOPE IS RUNNING FOR HIS LIFE.Enlisted by the beautiful Leigh Llewellyn - world famous opera star and Ben's first love - to investigate her brother's mysterious death, Ben finds himself caught up in a centuries-old puzzle.The official line states that Oliver died whilst investigating Mozart's death, but the facts don't add up. Oliver's research reveals that Mozart, a notable freemason, may have been killed by a shadowy and powerful splinter group of the cult. The only clues lie in an ancient letter, believed to have been written by Mozart himself.When Leigh and Ben receive video evidence of a ritual sacrifice being performed by hooded men, they realise that the sect is still in existence today…and will stop at nothing to remain a secret.From the dreaming spires of Oxford to Venice's labyrinthine canals, the majestic architecture of Vienna and Slovenia's snowy mountains, Ben and Leigh must forget the past and race across Europe to uncover the truth behind THE MOZART CONSPIRACY…An electrifying and utterly gripping must read for fans of Dan Brown, Sam Bourne and Ludlum's Bourne series.BEN HOPE is one of the most celebrated action adventure heroes in British fiction and Scott Mariani is the author of numerous bestsellers. Join the ever-growing legion of readers who get breathless with anticipation when the countdown to the new Ben Hope thriller begins …
Читать The Mozart Conspiracy онлайн беплатно
SCOTT MARIANI
The Mozart Conspiracy
AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
Copyright © Scott Mariani 2008
Scott Mariani asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9781847563415
Ebook Edition © 2008 ISBN: 9780007329038
Version 2018-07-03
To Mary, Lana and Richard
âI know I must die.
Someone has given me aqua toffana and has calculated the precise time of my death -for which they have ordered a Requiem. It is for myself that I am writing thisâ
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1791
Contents
Austria
9 January
Breathless with shock and terror, Oliver Llewellyn stumbled away from the scene he had just witnessed. He paused to lean against a bare stone wall. Nausea washed over him. His mouth was dry.
He hadnât known exactly what he would find when heâd slipped away to explore the house. But what heâd seen-what theyâd done to the man in that strange vaulted room-was more horrible than anything he could have imagined.
He ran on. Up a winding flight of stone steps and through the connecting bridgeway, then back into the main part of the house with its classical architecture and décor. He could hear the chatter and laughter of the party guests. The string quartet in the ballroom had started up a Strauss waltz.
The Sony Ericsson phone was still switched on and in video mode. He turned it off and slipped it in his tuxedo pocket, then glanced at the old wind-up watch on his wrist. It was almost nine thirty-his recital was due to resume in fifteen minutes. Oliver straightened his tux and took a deep breath. He walked down the sweeping double staircase to rejoin the party, attempting to conceal the panic in his step. Chandeliers glittered. Waiters attended to the guests, carrying silver trays laden with champagne flutes. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he snatched a glass from a tray and gulped it down. Across the room, near a tall marble fireplace, he could see the gleaming Bechstein grand piano heâd been playing just a few minutes earlier. It seemed like hours ago.
A hand landed on his shoulder. He tensed and spun around. An elderly gentleman with wire-framed glasses and a trim beard was smiling at him.
âMay I congratulate you on a fine recital, Herr Meyer,â the man said in German. âThe Debussy was magnificent. I eagerly await the second half of your programme.â
âD-Danke schön,â Oliver stammered. He looked around him nervously. Could they have spotted him? He had to get away from this place.
âBut you look very pale, Herr Meyer,â the old man said, frowning at him. âAre you unwell? Shall I fetch you a glass of water?â
Oliver searched for the words. âKrank,â he muttered. âIâm feeling sick.â He broke away from the old man and reeled through the crowd. He stumbled into a pretty woman in a sequin gown, spilling her drink. People stared at him. He blurted out an apology and pushed on.
